Seeing a Soul
by wolfdrum
Summary: This one-shot is in response to a writing prompt: "In a world where everyone wears a mask, it's a privilege to see a soul." The story is set after Ruth comes back from Cyprus and told from her point of view. As always, Kudos owns the characters included here.


A/N: Many thanks to Sigma Creations for providing the prompt and inspiring the idea for this very, very short reflection.

She is tired. Tired of the games, tired of the pretense, tired of the lies, tired of the deaths, tired of the pain. Tired of all of it. Bone tired. Physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted.

It is the death of Jo that seems to be the tipping point for the defeated state in which she currently finds herself. Jo, damaged but still committed to making a difference and protecting the populace from those who would harm them. Jo, her last friend from the old team because she doesn't trust Ros or Lucas, Malcolm has retired and she isn't sure what her relationship with Harry is anymore. It was Jo who talked her into coming back to the Grid, convincing her that she had been missed by everyone but no one more than Harry – and not because of her legendary skills as an analyst. She always could depend on Jo to tell her the truth and now Jo was gone.

She made her way back to the less-than-welcoming safe house that is now her home, turned on the kettle and flopped down on at the kitchen table. Her first day back at work and her only friend is dead. She had hoped that Harry would have come to her in the hallway as she sobbed for the loss of Jo and so much more. She sobbed until she thought she would fall to the floor, unable to stand any longer because of the grief over all of her losses which began when boarded that tugboat almost three years previously.

Harry didn't come to her in the hallway.

After slowly drinking her tea and trying to assess how she was feeling, she laid her head on her arms on the tabletop, closed her eyes (for just a minute) and fell asleep.

She awoke with a start to the sound her doorbell insistently ringing. God, it was 2 AM so who was foolish enough think she would be awake at this hour and ready to welcome a visitor? She didn't have any friends anymore; they all were either dead or thought she was. Making her way to the door, she was astounded and confused to find Harry standing there looking anxious and…lost.

Apologizing for disturbing her at the late hour, he asked if he could come in. She nodded, stood aside to let him and directed him to the kitchen, all the while wondering why he was here. After offering him tea and inviting him to sit down, she went about preparing it for both of them.

It seemed like a long time but was really only a few minutes before she rustled up the courage to ask him "Why are you here, Harry?" and sat back to wait for his answer.

He gazed up at her with sadness in his eyes and melancholy surrounding him like a bloody cloak. He looked dreadful. She said again, "Why are you here, Harry? Can I help?" That's when the tears began - his, not hers – and she couldn't stand to see him this way. Vulnerable. Needing something. Harry is confident, strong, unwavering and a rock in the midst of chaos and madness and she is seeing a different side of him. The mask is slipping and she is the one he is allowing to see it slip. He came here, to her…for what? Absolution? Companionship? Comfort?

In a world where everyone wears a mask, it's a privilege to see a soul. She thought she had a soul once but wonders if her own is still intact because most of the time it seems to her that she left it somewhere else or lost it in her travels or because of her work or…or what? But she is getting a glimpse of **his** soul.

The thought bursts into her consciousness and she realizes that he is revealing to her a small sliver of the man he really is. He came to her…tonight…because he needs her; that he is not as strong as everyone thinks he is. He came to for the comfort she can offer him and receive what he failed to offer her earlier in the day.

It is then discovers that her soul is not lost and she is able to draw on some long-lost inner strength, offering Harry the comfort he needs and what she wants to provide for him. Rising from her chair, she goes to him and draws his head to her chest, holding him close as he sobs.

His coming to her tonight has afforded her a precious gift…confirming the presence of her own soul as well as giving her a hint of his. And she is grateful.


End file.
